Susan Senator

Di, dayenu, di dayenu, di dayenu, dayenu dayenu
—Passover song, which means, “It would have been enough.”

Oodillali, oodillali,
Golly what a day.
—Rooster Minstrel guy, “Robin Hood,” (Disney) 1973

I rose to the height of my roller coaster today; (I fear for tomorrow)! So many things… Any one of these things would have made it a wondrous day, but all of them! And Ned is not even here tonight to benefit from my excess of joy.

In the morning, I had my meeting with a writing subcommittee of the Dark Side, where we crafted a letter educating school families about the downside of the CPA, the Community Preservation Act. These folks I worked with are not all that dark; in fact, they are quite nice and we ended the meeting with kisses all around and a damned good letter, courtesy of yours truly. More and more I am convinced that I am on the right side here (no pun intended) because this bit of legislation really would blow our chances of raising money for the schools, and we need big money. We have sustained cuts from the state and of course the federal government (the Bushies et al., though they throw a good party, are heinous when it comes to public education. They have slashed the education budget by half, I believe) for the last five years and them chickens are coming home to roost fer sher.

Naturally I will have my work cut out for me when this thing is defeated — and it’s going down, believe me, it is an arbitrary, troublesome bit of legislation — and I will then have to convince all these people I’m so cozy with right now that we need to raise taxes for the schools (and not open space, historic preservation, and affordable housing projects)! But as Scarlet said, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

So, I gave good letterhead. Une autre chose qui s’est passe: Beastie has made a friend. Eliot is a new kid who lives right near us! Most of the kids live on the other side of the hill, closer to the school, but Eliot is actually in our neighborhood. Seems to be a sweet and enthusiastic kid and not a pain in the arse. But, you know, he’s eight, so…

Also, I had a fantastic conversation with Tim Shriver, Chair of the Special Olympics, regarding a book we are going to do, or actually, I am going to do, but with his help and blessing. I can’t say much until I get a contract, but I am quivering with excitement. Wet armpits, wide eyes, talking a mile a minute. While I was talking to him, I kept having to say, “Hold on, Tim,” and then, “Beastie, if you’re done with your math, you can watch cartoons,” or “Hold on, Tim,” and then, “Natty, you want to listen to music?” but Tim, of all people, understands how life is for me; not only has he read my book (and blurbed it), he also has five children, God bless him, and so he knows all about the phone A.D.D. we parents get.

And then, I had a phone call from a friend who is on the board of our local cable television station, and he asked me to do a political comedy show about our town! This is something that has been in the back of my mind forever, because of all the issues that the politicos get all hot and bothered about, friendships are made or murdered over some of these things, and they go on forever. The very stuff of comedy. At least, for a handful of political junkies in my town. But it will be so much fun! I think I can write comedy, don’t you? I got a great knock-knock joke, you start:

And finally, someone exciting from my past reappeared on the scene…